The past is a place fraught with pain, idealism, and unreliable recollections. The experience of revisiting your adolescent diaries proves this, often making you question how well you knew yourself, your desires, and your innermost thoughts. This is an exercise Lucy Dacus undertook when writing the songs for her third full-length album, Home Video, a collection of songs soaked in the kinds of confessional truths we hold closest to the chest. Dacus reckons with her own memory, finding humor, humility, and sadness in the details, like Easter eggs. She tackles the shame of growing into yourself in an environment steeped in religion, navigating sexuality, queerness, friendships, and firsts, deftly chronicling coming of age in Richmond, Virginia. The lyrics across Home Video are profoundly specific, immersing us in Dacus’ history yet still allowing us to see ourselves in it.